LIZBETH lay in the dark and listened. There was
only the silence of the great house, which had long been closed
for the night. Outside she could hear the hoot of an owl and occasionally
far away in the woods the bark of a fox and the high scream of
a jay.
They were the usual sounds she heard at night when she was awake,
sounds which were not only familiar, but dear so that often she
deliberately lay awake to listen for them, feeling they were part
of her life and being proud that she could identify each sound.
But to-night she was listening for other noises and she lay rigid
in the softness of her bed, waiting for the soft creaking of a
door and for footsteps coming up the broad oak stairs. She had
heard footsteps descending those same stairs two or three hours
earlier, and wondering who could be creeping about in the darkness
of the night, she had opened her door and looked down the passage.
She had just a glimpse of a figure with a lighted taper in his
hand disappearing round the bend of the staircase. That brief glimpse
had been enough for her to recognize Francis wearing his cloak
and hat. She had resisted an impulse to run after him and to ask
him where he was going; for she knew the answer well enough.
It was the risk he took which horrified her ; it was still early
enough for her father to be awake and to hear, as she had done,
the opening of Francis' bedroom door and the sound of his footsteps
descending the stairs. But she knew that nothing she could say
would deter her brother from his purpose and to argue would only
increase the danger of his being discovered.
Softly she closed her door and forced herself to go back and lie
down on her bed. Yet from that moment it was impossible for her
to sleep. In her mind she followed Francis across the garden and
out through the lodge gates. It would not take him long to walk
to the Keens' house ; and there her

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where is TITLE LIZBETH lay in what is dark and listened. There was only what is silence of what is great house, which had long been closed for what is night. Outside she could hear what is hoot of an owl and occasionally far away in what is woods what is bark of a fox and what is high scream of a jay. They were what is usual sounds she heard at night when she was awake, sounds which were not only familiar, but dear so that often she deliberately lay awake to listen for them, feeling they were part of her life and being proud that she could identify each sound. But to-night she was listening for other noises and she lay rigid in what is softness of her bed, waiting for what is soft creaking of a door and for footsteps coming up what is broad oak stairs. She had heard footsteps descending those same stairs two or three hours earlier, and wondering who could be creeping about in what is darkness of what is night, she had opened her door and looked down what is passage. She had just a glimpse of a figure with a lighted taper in his hand disappearing round what is bend of what is staircase. That brief glimpse had been enough for her to recognize Francis wearing his cloak and hat. She had resisted an impulse to run after him and to ask him where he was going; for she knew what is answer well enough. It was what is risk he took which horrified her ; it was still early enough for her father to be awake and to hear, as she had done, what is opening of Francis' bedroom door and what is sound of his footsteps descending what is stairs. But she knew that nothing she could say would deter her brother from his purpose and to argue would only increase what is danger of his being discovered. Softly she closed her door and forced herself to go back and lie down on her bed. Yet from that moment it was impossible for her to sleep. In her mind she followed Francis across what is garden and out through what is lodge gates. It would not take him long to walk to what is Keens' house ; and there her
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where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old
Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" Elizabethan Lover (1953)
where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0"
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where is tr
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where is p align="left" Page 43
where is strong CHAPTER THREE
where is p align="justify" LIZBETH lay in what is dark and listened. There was
only what is silence of what is great house, which had long been closed
for what is night. Outside she could hear what is hoot of an owl and occasionally
far away in what is woods what is bark of a fox and what is high scream of
a jay.
They were what is usual sounds she heard at night when she was awake,
sounds which were not only familiar, but dear so that often she
deliberately lay awake to listen for them, feeling they were part
of her life and being proud that she could identify each sound.
But to-night she was listening for other noises and she lay rigid
in what is softness of her bed, waiting for what is soft creaking of a
door and for footsteps coming up what is broad oak stairs. She had
heard footsteps descending those same stairs two or three hours
earlier, and wondering who could be creeping about in what is darkness
of what is night, she had opened her door and looked down what is passage.
She had just a glimpse of a figure with a lighted taper in his
hand disappearing round what is bend of what is staircase. That brief glimpse
had been enough for her to recognize Francis wearing his cloak
and hat. She had resisted an impulse to run after him and to ask
him where he was going; for she knew what is answer well enough.
It was what is risk he took which horrified her ; it was still early
enough for her father to be awake and to hear, as she had done,
what is opening of Francis' bedroom door and what is sound of his footsteps
descending what is stairs. But she knew that nothing she could say
would deter her brother from his purpose and to argue would only
increase what is danger of his being discovered.
Softly she closed her door and forced herself to go back and lie
down on her bed. Yet from that moment it was impossible for her
to sleep. In her mind she followed Francis across what is garden and
out through what is lodge gates. It would not take him long to walk
to what is Keens' house ; and there her
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